


Some Enchanted Evening

by Penknife



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Car Sex, Dubious Consent, M/M, Sex Pollen, Top Loki (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 14:57:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19064953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penknife/pseuds/Penknife
Summary: This is definitely not how Tony intended to end the evening.





	Some Enchanted Evening

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wednesday](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wednesday/gifts).



Tony is pretty sure that he didn’t intend to end an evening at a boring fundraising event by having sex with Loki, much less by sprawling spreadeagled in the back seat of his own car while Loki fucks him from behind.

He has to admit it feels _amazing_. The leather of the seat is cool against his face, and Loki is really giving it his all, driving into him in hard rhythmic thrusts that are getting Tony off without Tony having to do any work, and he really wants nothing more than to just enjoy that. It’s been a long time since he did anything truly hedonistic and irresponsible.

There’s just this little voice in the back of his head that insists on pointing out several things: first, there’s irresponsible and then there’s stupid, and letting Loki fuck him as a way of saying hello without finding out what Loki’s up to this time would be stupid; second, he doesn’t actually like Loki, and these days he reserves sex for people he likes; and third, Loki’s fingers are pinching at his nipple, which should be making it hard to breathe, because Tony can’t deal with people’s hands on his chest anymore, but instead is just making his dick harder. Everything feels warm and soft-focus and sexy and easy, like the way Tony always wants being seriously drunk to be, but not like the way being seriously drunk actually is.

“What did you do to me?” he rasps, at the same time that he shifts his hips so that he can take Loki a little deeper. It’s a fractional adjustment of angle, but an important one. “Oh, yeah.”

“What did I do to you?” Loki sounds like he’s considering the question for the first time, slowing his thrusts, which makes Tony regret asking. “I did nothing to you. What have you done to me?”

There’s an edge of danger in his voice, and Tony finds it a turn-on. He’s not sure if that’s another sign that something’s wrong with him or not. He’s aware that he’s wired that way to start with.

“This was your idea,” Tony says.

“Was it?”

“Wasn’t it?”

“Surely it was,” Loki says, between thrusts of his hips, but he sounds less than certain. “I’m not myself.”

“This seems a lot like you.”

“I’m usually not this obviously myself.”

“Admittedly if you have a — okay, like that — secret master plan, it’s not — _fuck_ — really playing out right now.”

“Do you always talk this much?”

“Pretty much always. Yes.”

“The flowers at the party,” Loki says raggedly, still working away at what he’s doing but sounding like his brain is engaged again as well as his dick. “They were Asgardian. I noticed.”

“Why were you at a museum opening on Earth anyway? There are no legitimate reasons for that.”

“Never mind that,” Loki says, and bites Tony’s shoulder, which isn’t fair at all. For a moment Tony thinks that’s going to do it for him, he’s going to come messily right now in mid-conversation, but he makes himself breathe until the urge recedes enough for him to think again. “But enemies could have used them to work some enchantment.”

“My enemies wanted to make us have sex?” It is possible that Tony has enemies who think that winding up in bed with someone unfortunate would be a fate worse than death for him, but if so, they don’t know a lot about his tastes.

“ _My_ enemies,” Loki says. “Clearly intended to distract me with trying to figure out how to get you out of these clothes—”

“You figured out the zipper, what more do you want, here?”

By way of answer, Loki tugs Tony’s tuxedo jacket further down his shoulder and pulls at his shirt to bare more flesh. He bites again. “More,” he says when he lifts his head, his breath hot against Tony’s throat.

“Take it,” Tony says, because he has no judgment right now, and anyway, he’s not sure they’re going to figure out what’s going on until they get this out of their systems and clear their heads.

“Believe me, I will. I’m going to make you scream.”

“I’m not really the screaming type. I could manage a yell—”

“I’ve been told I talk too much during sex. I’m beginning to understand the complaint.”

“Oh, you like it,” Tony says.

“It’s not uninteresting,” Loki says, like that’s a major admission.

“You’re going to like this, then: I’m going to come for you. Really soon now, just keep doing what you’re doing.”

“I’m not doing this for you,” Loki says.

“No, but you like having me right where you want me.” Tony isn’t certain that entirely sums up the situation, but he is certain that the best way for this situation to become actually dangerous is for Loki to become frightened by being out of control. They are better off both taking this as an incredibly hot thing that is happening against their mutual better judgment, territory in which he has long experience. “Getting off on getting fucked.”

“Shameless,” Loki says.

Tony doesn’t, actually have any shame about enjoying taking a pounding. He’s beginning to suspect that might not be the case for Loki if their positions were reversed. He’ll file that for some future time when trying to understand what goes on in Loki’s head is something he inexplicably wants to do.

“That’s right,” Tony says.

Loki bites him again, worrying at Tony’s shoulder with his teeth, and Tony groans and grinds his whole body back against Loki’s. Everything seems more vivid than it should be, the smell of leather and sex and the heavy perfume of those weird flowers. Every thrust of Loki’s hips feels like he’s going to come, and he braces himself each time, every muscle straining, and then shudders when instead there’s just the drag of Loki pulling back to thrust into him again. There’s sweat running down the back of his collar and stinging where Loki’s marked him with his teeth.

“You can do better than that,” he says, because if he’s going to regret this in the morning, he wants something really memorable to regret. Loki hisses and draws back his hips and hammers into him, and Tony yells and swears and comes, and then breathes brokenly as Loki wrenches himself in and out of Tony for a few more strokes before he comes in a hot flood and then, finally, pulls out.

Some indefinite amount of time passes before Tony can tug his pants back up and roll over to get his back against the seat and elbow Loki off him to sprawl, looking sweaty and shaky-looking, on the other end of the seat.

“You did scream,” Loki says, also looking a bit smug.

“That wasn’t a scream,” Tony says. He feels worked over and satiated and actually pretty good, high on endorphins and the satisfaction of hard exercise, except for the part where he’s still pissed off about being set up. “You want to go find out who did this to us?”

“I very much do,” Loki says. Tony feels a little sorry for those people, whoever they are, but not that sorry.

“After you,” he says, and fixes his tie before they climb out of the car together.


End file.
